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<title>She’s got a sick sense of humor by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716147">She’s got a sick sense of humor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth'>Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death, Gen, cherri dies, tbh i dont remember the premise of this fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:00:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cherri meets the Witch</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agent Cherri Cola &amp; The Phoenix Witch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>She’s got a sick sense of humor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The blaster hits, and you die and you don't know what you were expecting, but this isn't it. You wake up in the sand, lying in the dark, and the witch is there, and she’s <em>laughing</em>. </p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Hi.” She grins, and her beak is full of teeth. And you gasp and scramble away because she isn’t the Witch you’ve seen before. You're clearly dead though, the ache in the blaster wound in your back tells you that much. </p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“You call me the Witch.”</p><p>“No. You aren't her, I’ve met her before.” <em>She was kind, and loving, and nothing like you</em> is what you don’t say.</p><p>You remember the pain and the smoke and the feel of Drac necks snapping in your bare hands and you want to vomit but you can’t because you're fucking dead and you sure don't think ghosts can vomit. You don't want to find out. </p><p>“That was just a dream, dear,” She says and Her feathers glisten like an oil slick, like something you've waded too far into and now you cant breathe can’t pull yourself out of this bottomless pit of thick dark liquid. </p><p>“It wasn't,” you protest and you're fighting a goddess now, arguing with Her. It’s not like She can kill you now, at least. Can She ? Probably. </p><p>You might find out. But instead, She offers you a hand up, or a talon, at least. Does She have wings? Six limbs? You can’t tell how much is bird and how much is... something else. You don’t want to think about what other creatures She might be made of. Oh well. Judging a goddess is unkind— you don’t want to judge anyone, really, so you shrug. </p><p>“What now? Where am I?”</p><p>“Dear Cherri, don’t you know? You’re dead. You’ve died, and you’re gone. This is where you end up.”</p><p>“Oh.” You know it might be pushing your luck, but you try anyways. “Can I see them now? The others? Or do I have to wait for my mask to be taken to a mailbox?”</p><p>She tilts Her head, the. Shakes it, almost sadly. “This isn’t an afterlife, Cherri Cola. This is death.” She waves a hand-wing out at the little patch of sand, and your heart drops. </p><p>“This is it?”</p><p>“This is it. If it makes you feel any better, your friends and family love you, your Girl will take your mask in soon enough. She misses you, but she’ll do fine.” The Witch almost-smiles, and you want to scream. </p><p>“How long will I be here?” You run a hand through the sand, and it doesn't even feel like real sand. It’s softer, somehow, the texture less <em>there</em>. </p><p>“Forever and no time at all. Blink, and your consciousness might blip out a century or two, sneeze, and you’ll end up last second. Time isn’t a thing, here, and neither is space.” She pauses, thinks a second. “I don’t really stick around too much, never as long as this, and I really should get going, now.” She shrugs, ruffles Her feathers, and you’re fucking fuming. </p><p>You don’t know why you’re so angry. Maybe you feel cheated from an afterlife you never quite believed you’d be good enough to get to; maybe you’re just pissed you’ll never see your sister again. But as the Witch turns to disappear, you grab ahold of a handful of Her feathers, rip them out as She vanishes. </p><p>They don’t disappear when She does, and you have the rest of time to think about what you’d done. You have the rest of time to study Her feathers.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Leave a comment below, and find me on tumblr @ wishiwasthemoon-tonight!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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